


The Morning After

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Jolene (Song) - Dolly Parton
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after her confrontation with Jolene, Andrea realizes what she really wants and might have wanted all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aestivali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestivali/gifts).



Through the soft haze of the early June morning, Andrea can just barely make out the outlines of the white picket fence at the edge of the garden. The apple trees have not yet given fruit but she can already imagine the way Jolene’s mouth would look, stretched in a wide “O” around a ruby red apple. She grips the windowsill with both hands and listens to the gurgle of the coffee maker behind her. The warm, thick air, which threatens a hot, sweaty day, floods the small, messy kitchen and envelops her thin frame. She pushes strands of blonde hair out of her face and fixes her glasses before they manage to slide down her nose. 

Behind her comes the rustle of feet shuffling down the hall and she sucks in a breath, anticipating the jolt she always feels when Jolene is around. “You’re up early.” The breathy, low voice is much closer to her ear than she had anticipated and Andrea jumps as though from a shock. “Are you still jumpy? After last night? Tut-tut.” Jolene clicks her tongue and laughs a throaty laugh which makes everything inside Andrea tighten painfully. She wants to turn around, to fist her hand in Jolene’s thick auburn hair and dive into the twin mossy ponds that are her eyes. But she does not dare stir even an inch. “Oh, you’re making coffee. Good.”

“I can’t believe this,” Andrea whispers finally, her voice hoarse and choked. She continues to stare numbly through the June Gloom, watching as a couple of cars pass by, picking up walls of dust on their way. 

“What? That I like coffee?”

“I cheated on Scott. I cheated on my _boyfriend_.”

“Oh God, not that again.” The exasperation in Jolene’s voice is genuine but there is a speck of amusement in it as well. “He doesn’t have to know, you know. I won’t tell him.”

Andrea finally finds it in herself to turn around. Jolene is sat in a chair at the kitchen table, spreading jam over a piece of toast. Her hair is disheveled, hanging in thick waves around her face and shoulders. Even without make-up, with her hair a mess and in a black, silk bathrobe the woman is irresistible. Andrea is suddenly acutely aware of the soreness between her legs. She stares at Jolene, feeling her heart rate pick up and take off like a spooked mare. 

Jolene looks up and meets her eyes without a shade of regret or embarrassment. “Toast?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Jolene smirks. “You were last night.”

Andrea flushes; she can feel her cheeks turning bright red. 

Finally, Jolene puts aside the toast and turns to face her. She crosses one leg over the other and regards Andrea with a serious purse to her lips. “Alright, I see. You regret what happened, you love Scott – no idea why, but whatever – and you still want me to leave him alone.”

“I…” Andrea realizes that she no longer knows what she wants. She knew very well last night when she ended up here, knew that she wanted to marry Scott and wanted to never have to see Jolene again. Now, some twelve hours later, her entire world is in shambles, like so many shards of broken glass scattered across a tiled bathroom floor. Everything she thought she was no longer had any meaning or relevance. “I don’t know what I want.”

Jolene gives a very un-lady like snort. “Pity, because I sure do.”

“I thought you wanted Scott…” Andrea knows she must sound pathetic. She can’t seem to get a sentence out without the edges of her words fraying. 

“He’s not my type. _Men_ aren’t really my type.” She smiles brilliantly at her and Andrea feels a sudden weakness behind her knees. “You on the other hand…” Jolene licks her lips. “I like you.” 

Andrea’s breath catches in her throat, the memory of last night’s orgasm crashing through her. She had cried and moaned and begged for release. Her breasts still tingle from the tongue-treatment Jolene had given them and her thighs are sore from constant clenching. Her mouth is suddenly dry and speaking is difficult although she is usually extremely articulate. “You liking someone like me is a little…strange.”

Jolene shrugs. “I just know what I want.” She stands and walks over to Andrea. She puts both hands on the other girl’s shoulders and runs them down her body, one hand stopping to cup her breasts and the other continuing down to fit between her legs. Andrea freezes as Jolene begins to rub at her clit; her lips part and she lets out a small, pathetic moan. Jolene grins. “That. That look on your face. It’s precious.” 

Andrea gulps for air. She reaches up and fists her hand in Jolene’s thick hair, re-discovering its texture. She is crazy about Jolene’s hair, obsessed with it. “I’m so scared...that this…is a joke.”

Jolene laughs that same throaty laugh and releases Andrea only to instantly wrap her arms around the smaller girl’s waist. “Oh I’m not joking. I don’t joke about this sort of shit.” Her smile is sharp but her eyes are bright and filled with lust. 

“I want you,” Andrea admits, nearly choking on the words, but her heart is suddenly light, nearly weightless. 

Jolene continues to smile as she takes her hand and leads her back to the bedroom.


End file.
